


Only The Beginning

by Lunarwolfik



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarwolfik/pseuds/Lunarwolfik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah fell into hunting by accident; Jessica, on the other hand, had been born into it. In the end though, neither of them really complained about it much, especially when it meant late-night caresses and furtive kisses. But then, that part came later. Much later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for somnolentblue's prompt at spn_bitesized AU/AR challenge. Prompt was Jessica lives for reasons either explained or handwaved. What happens when she encounters Sarah Blake while investigating a haunted painting, either as an alternative version of 1.19 or in a different context entirely? Gen, Jessica/Sarah, or background Jessica/Sam.

Sarah fell into hunting by accident; Jessica, on the other hand, had been born into it. In the end though, neither of them really complained about it much, especially when it meant late-night caresses and furtive kisses. But then, that part came later. Much later.

***

 

It all started when Jessica showed up at the auction-house asking Sarah the weirdest questions she'd ever heard.

"So, were there any weird reports of strange noises or flickering lights before everything went all"-she waved a hand to encompass the room-"Murder She Wrote?" She finished with an almost imperceptible quirk of the lips. How anyone could find this macabre thing funny was beyond Sarah.

She frowned in response, shaking her head. "No, not that I know of."

"Oh, nothing about any cold spots, maybe flickering shadows? Some might even say an apparition?"

"No," she replied, the syllable drawn out and wary. "Why? I thought this was for a tourist magazine?"

"It is, I was just hoping to get some local color for the piece. You know how people like the idea of ghosts and everything. Sometimes a little spook goes a long way at drumming up business," Jessica responded quickly, almost too quickly. The hasty jotting of her pen and the easy smile that graced her lips was meant to be reassuring, but Sarah didn't believe her. She'd never liked reporters that much. Except for Clark Kent, but then, there were always exceptions to every rule.

"Uh huh," Sarah replied, before motioning Jessica down the stairs before her. Her hair bounced easily, capturing the light in bright yellow sparks like a dream catcher. Later on, Sarah will ask Jessica how her hair could be so gorgeous when half the time she's crawling in sewers and shooting shotguns. Jessica will tell her it's all about conditioning and let on that she'd put especial care into her appearance that day anyway. Not that she'd been trying to impress anyone or anything.

When they finally reached the landing, Jessica looked around the hall with a careful studious glance before her gaze returned to Sarah's face. She easily slipped into a smile once again.

"Well, thanks for your time, Sarah Blake. I'm sure this house'll make for a great piece in the magazine in a couple weeks once it's shaken off the bad press." She held out her hand and Sarah returned the gesture, an inkling of suspicion itching at the corners of her mind.

"No problem."

"If you think of anything important, just give me a call," Jessica said, giving her a no-frills card with just her name and number.

And, really, that should have been that. But Sarah had never good at leaving things alone.

Especially when she literally ran into Jessica at the auction house the next day looking beneath a chair for something and muttering to herself. Sarah backed up sharply, flustered, with a quick "I'm so sorry" before she realized it was, in fact, Jessica.

"Jessica? What're you-"

"Sorry about that," Jessica said, cutting her off and not so discretely pocketing something. "I-ah-lost my notepad here yesterday after I got done talking with you," she finished, smile a little strained along the edges.

"Oh, that's fine. Sorry, again, for running into you," Sarah replied, still a little sheepish.

"That's fine, I wasn't exactly not in the way. I guess I'll-what?" Sarah started, unsure at Jessica's sudden questioning and astonished look. Glancing behind her, she could see that freakish painting with the rather too pale family being moved.

"Beg pardon?" she asked politely.

"I-ah-that painting! It's just like the one my mom had."

"Your mom had a creepy painting of a farmer's family?" she asked, quirking her brow.

"Well, not exactly like it, but it's similar. What are you moving for? It's not for sell, is it?"

"No, the Telescas bought it from a charity auction the night they were murdered. I didn't think that would be in good taste, so we're just moving it to storage. You don't want to buy it, do you?" Sarah didn't shudder at the thought of the creepy painting being hung up on display with its past of blood and guts, but it was a close one.

"What? No-not exactly. Promise me you won't sell it, though. I at least want a picture of it, to-to show my mom. She's always said her painting was one of a kind," Jessica replied, transfixed by the grisly image.

"Uh, sure. I guess. Like I said, we're going to be moving it to storage though-"

"Good, good. That's a good place for it. I'll be by later, camera's at the hotel. You know how things go, never have something when you need it," she responded; smile bright, before practically bolting for the door.

This was, of course, the time that Sarah decided something was definitely up.

When her father insisted the painting be sold, even though Sarah fought him tooth and nail. His stubborn streak was worse then hers and eventually she had to concede. She wasn't happy about it, but he was her dad and there was only so much she could fight him on.

Jessica's startled look kept replaying in her mind though, and she ended up calling her to tell her the painting had been sold. The controlled panic that immediately followed was unnerving to say the least. The stark command of Jessica's to tell her who it'd been sold to was even more so.

When she looked up the magazine that she worked for seconds after Jessica hung up with a terse click, Sarah found a redirect page that said they went out of business that week.

Clearly, this meant she had to investigate further.

And that was about the time everything went spiraling downhill into a world of crazy that Sarah had no idea existed.

There was a creepy old house and a creepy little girl whose laughter would haunt her dreams for weeks after. There was Jessica defiantly blasting the ghost-seriously, a real ghost-with a shotgun that somehow worked-"rocksalt" was the response that Sarah got. There was also a lot of running and panic and swirling whooshing wind that came out of nowhere.

When Jessica told her to get behind her, Sarah listened without thinking. When Jessica had shot the thing one more time before telling her to run like hell, she sure as hell listened. They end up making it out of the house alive and relatively unscathed, Sarah panting and hopped on adrenaline laced with confusion and fright.

"What the-"

But Jessica cut her off; instead she shoved her towards a menacing silver Jeep and told her to be calm down.

Sarah didn't remember much of the ride after that, her mind was reeling and racing at 200 miles an hour with very few braking opportunities as Jessica gave her the down and dirty about hunting. She vaguely recollected the use of the words "ghost" and "real" and "dangerous" in the same sentence.

Sarah's pretty sure she asked Jessica if she was freaking nuts at some point too, but the laugh that was her response was neither reassuring nor answer enough.

By the time they reached the cemetery, she was considerably calmer although by no means was she approaching normal. At the back of her mind, her twelve-year old self was telling her 'I told you so' over and over again, which really wasn't helping much.

When Jessica began to curse at the fact that there was no body to burn, Sarah quickly recalled all those history classes she took that she was never sure would come in handy.

"They used to use real human hair in dolls around that time," she said, motioning at the now extra-creepy doll, which she could still see being dragged along the ground by a tiny hand of evil in her mind's eye.

Jessica burned the doll efficiently, the dowsing of salt and lighter fluid looked mechanical, well-rehearsed. It was not something Sarah thought she'd ever see, let alone be told the meaning behind.

The pale wavering light of dawn was just hovering at the horizon when they stepped out of the mausoleum. A strange crooked smile was on Jessica's lips that Sarah would later come to call her 'job well done' smile. Sarah breathed a deep breath, watching as Jessica dusted off the edges of her pant leg.

"So, that was something," Sarah said wirily, the easing of adrenaline leaving behind a wake of almost wonder. Ghosts and demons and creepy-crawlies were real, that wasn't going to be something she just forgot overnight.

Jessica smiled back. "Yeah. You did a good job. Didn't slow me down or anything."

"Thanks, I try not to do that on a daily basis," she replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear to no avail.

"You going to go back to your cushy auction job now?" Jessica asked after a moment as a chirping bird above broke the new day stillness.

"I-" She paused, considering. Now that she knew, really knew what the world was like, could she just be normal?

"I don't think so," she finished, staring out at the horizon, the tombstones dotting the landscape taking on a whole new meaning.

"You could, I dunno, come with me? We made a good team back there," Jessica asked a little too casually.

She thought about it, all the danger and craziness, the sick feeling of death breathing down her neck and the relief at beating it back. The rush of fighting, the not knowing what was going to happen. It certainly had its appeal.

Looking at Jessica, with her hair messier and her face dirt streaked, Sarah inhaled sharply, feeling something like wonder catch at her breath.

"Yeah, yeah, I think I will," she finally replied, smiling despite everything.

Sarah didn't know it then, but that was only the beginning.


End file.
